A King of Narnia and a Princess of Nothing
by Gwenevere Black
Summary: When a small country loses its king and is annexed by Narnia, where will its wayward princess live? And how will this wayward princess get along with the King of Narnia? Edmund x OC Rated T for mild crude content. ending revised
1. Chapter 1

"How old is she

"How old is she?"

"She's around your age, Lu."

The she in question was, in fact, 17.

Peter himself had met her before, her name was Samantha. She was the daughter of a king, the sole ruler of a very small country. The country was being annexed by Narnia because the king had died and there was no ruler-that had been four year ago, when Samantha was too young to rule.

"Well, where will she sleep?"

"She'll have to share with one of us," Peter said, "but who? We each have one extra bedroom, and mine's not even got a bed in it. It's full of armour and weapons."

"Mine's got my easel and paints in it, and that's the only window with good enough light," Lucy protested. "She can't stay with me, either."

"What about you, Susan?" Peter asked.

"You know that's Caspian's room."

Peter smacked his forehead, Edmund rolled his eyes, and Lucy giggled.

Edmund rolled his eyes because nary a week went by with Caspian staying 'for the night' and winding up there for three days. He insisted he was journeying to 'faraway lands' on vitally 'important business' and he stayed for three nights at a time because 'he's gone much faster than expected' and it didn't make any sense for him to go on to 'inhospitable countries' for more time than needed.

Peter smacked him forehead because he knew the same thing, and Lucy giggled because she was the only who knew that Caspian's bed was completely unnecessary. Granted, he slept in Susan's bed, but all clothes stayed ON, thank you.

"What about you, Ed? What's in your extra room?"

Edmund looked up from mutilating his scrambled eggs; they were indeed discussing this over breakfast because Samantha was arriving that afternoon.

"I don't use it; it's just a spare bedroom…"

"Perfect! She'll stay with you."

"What? Who'll stay with me? Why don't I get a say in this?"

"She's got to, Edmund," Lucy pointed out. "It's either the spare room or YOUR bed."

Peter and Susan bit their lips to keep from laughing.

"Does she have to?" Edmund was 21, but he still looked like a whiny child when he wanted to.

"Yes. So it's settled, then?" Peter said pointedly.

"Fine," Edmund grumbled, then skulked away.

Kicking his door open, still mad at Peter and the others for dumping this newcomer on him, Edmund flopped onto his huge, cushy bed and stared at the ceiling. Inside him, a battle was waging between reason and stuborness.

_She can't be that bad, _Reason said, _she won't even be in your bedroom._

_Sure, but she's still in my space, _Childishness said.

_I bet she's pretty._

_I bet she's a simpering child._

_Like you are right now._

_Shut up._

_Wow, Ed. You lost a battle to yourself._

_I also won, since you're part of me too._

_I bet she's gorgeous._

_What, are you looking forward to this?_

_So are you, remember? As you pointed out, both Reason and Childishness are part of you._

Edmund rolled over and put a pillow over his head, hoping it would block out the voices. He got up and began to straighten his room. He picked the clothes off the floor, wondering where the maid was when he needed her.

Edmund wandered into the spare room. It looked cold and bare, unlived-in. He opened the drapes, lifted down a bright blue blanket from the closet, spread the blanket over the bed, and went outside. He plucked a wildflower, big and sunny yellow, and set it in a glass vase on the spare room's dresser.

He wondered where all this kindness was suddenly coming from, and got the distinct feeling that somewhere deep inside him, Reason was laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

Samantha's hair was in a simple ponytail, and an elaborate gold tiara sat atop her red hair. She dress was blue, which, unlike most redheads, did not emphasize blue eyes she did not have. She had sort of muddy brown orbs, which matched altogether too much with the muddy brown freckles across her nose.

Sam was cute, in a girly sort of way, pretty if you squinted just right. But beautiful? No. Regal? Fat chance. A good body? Maybe. But no one to look at it.

3 out of 4 siblings stood to greet her. The tallest, a sandy-haired man of maybe 25 by Sam's guess stepped forward. He gripped her hand strongly in a Narnia welcome. "This is out palace, and yours now, too. I'm High King Peter."

Sam smiled at herself and her much shorter title: "I'm Samantha. You have a lovely castle."

Next, a tall woman with dark hair hugged her. "I'm Queen Susan, welcome to Narnia."

Then the smallest, a sweet-looking girl of maybe 18 hugged her.

"I'm Queen Lucy. But you don't have to call any of us King or Queen, or even High King. Just our names, I insist."

Sam smiled. "Then you must call me Sam, it's so much less cumbersome."

All three nodded at her. Then Sam let confusion cloud her face.

"I thought there were four of you."

Susan explained: "Yes, the fourth is Edmund. He's 21, black hair, blue eyes, taller you than you but shorter than me. No one can seem to find him just now, which is unfortunate, since you'll be staying with him."

Sam blanched. "With him?"

Lucy suppressed a giggle, understanding Sam at once. "No, no, we mean in his quarters, not in his room. There's a nice guest room, and you'll be able to furnish it however you like. I'll take you there since-Blast you, Ed, where've you been?"

Sam turned and followed Lucy's gaze to a man who must be Edmund coming over the top of a hill on a brown gelding with white spots. He looked as Susan had described him, but what she's failed to mention was that he was-at least to Sam-quite possibly the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

"Riding, where does it look like I've been?"

All Sam's fantasies came crashing down about her ears-he was mean and sarcastic.

"You're supposed to be here to greet Sam!"

_Don't you see, high-and-mighty Reason? She's rather plain. Red hair, freckles, brown eyes... _

_Oh, yeah? Why are you blushing, then, Edmund Pevensie?_

Suddenly Edmund felt a little guilty for walking out on his siblings and Sam. It wasn't, after all, the best way to start off with a person who had easy access to not only his bed, but his knives, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was homesick. She wanted her room back, even though it wasn't much bigger than the guest where she was. But that title.

_Guest room._

It made it sound like she was temporary, to be kicked out somewhere else later. Just being in the room made her antsy. She sat down at the vanity and looked in the mirror. She truly was plain, she realized. The red hair, the mud-eyes, the freckles. She had high cheekbones, that was nice, but not much else going for her.

Sam sighed. No wonder no one courted her, or even looked at her twice in passing.

I need some fresh air, she thought. But first, out of this dress.

The dress in question was nice-looking but stupidly uncomfortable. She changed into a simpler, more comfortable red cotton dress and took off her tiara and the jeweled necklace she'd worn for a good 'first impression'.

Sam padded barefoot over to the trunk with all her worldly belongings-her chambermaid had quit her post a week before and stolen most of Sam's belongings not under lock and key. She drew out a long sword and sheathed it, then strapped it around her. The familiar weight on her hip soothed her some. She laced up her boots and walked outside.

Edmund was pacing the grounds, weaving in and out of courtyards before finally deciding on going to the stables. He was going riding again, after he'd been interrupted by Sam's arrival.

Sam decided she'd retrieve her horse from the stables and go for a ride. The nice thing about Narnia's rolling grasslands and steep hills were that they resembled the ones at home.

Edmund and Sam were on opposite ends of the stables, and neither noticed the other until both horses were saddled and bridled. Edmund had one foot in the stirrup when he heard a remarkable crash and a whinnying horse. He slung himself over the horse and trotted cautiously to the other end of the stable.

"Arc, come on, don't be like that. I know this isn't home, but it's better! At least for you, look how big your stall is.

The situation was almost comical, and Edmund bit back a laugh. Sam was standing beside an impressively tall horse, stroking its nose and talking to it. Sam was very small, he realized, at least a foot shorter than he was and dwarfed immensely by the huge horse.

Sam looked over when she heard the horse's hoof beats.

"You'd be King Edmund, then?"

"Just Edmund, thank you. What happened?"

Sam gestured toward her horse. "Arc is homesick."

"Arc?"

"Short for Arcenalla. (are-cen-ell-uh)She came named, not my choice. So I call her Arc.

"Of course."

Abruptly, Edmund rode off. Miffed at Edmund rudeness, Sam mounted her horse in a huff and trotted after Edmund.

"For a king, you have no manners."

"And for a freeloader, you have a lot of attitude."

Sam's eyes widened. "What have I done to you? Why are you so mean?"

Edmund looked at Sam sideways. He decided it was interesting being around her. She was someone to match his arguments instead of back down with a 'deepest apologies, my king.'

"I'm not mean, I simply don't trust you. If you're trustworthy, I'll eventually figure it out."

"And who are you to be a high-and-mighty judge of character?"

"You sleep in my quarters and you challenge my rule?"

"I'll challenge more than that, given the chance."

Edmund smiled. The girl had spirit, he liked that. He spotted the weapon at her waist.

"Can you fight, or it that merely an ornament?"

"I can fight."

Edmund jumped down from his horse and tied the reigns to a tree. He drew his sword and leveled it at her.

"Prove it."

"I'll not fight a king."

Edmund groaned. "And here I though my title wouldn't make a difference to you."

Sam faltered. "All right. But if I cut you by accident, I'll not be charged for high treason?"

"No. But you're not going to cut me on purpose?" Sam caught the grin in his voice and the sparkle in his eyes.

"I'll try to refrain," she answered, fighting a smile. She dismounted and tied up her horse next to Edmund's. Drawing her sword, she looked to Edmund.

They circled each other for less than 10 seconds. At the same instance, they charged.

A horrible screech of metal on metal followed, and came again and again as swords clashed. Edmund twisted his sword underneath Sam's and held the tip at her throat. Sam looked from it to Edmund's eyes, then sharply pulled her sword up and knocked his away.

The fight was on!

Neither knew how long it lasted, but both were panting and red-faced.

Summoning his last bit of strength, Edmund struck once again, and the blow knocked the sword from Sam's hand. Sam was about to admit defeat and take the shame when Edmund's sword tip scratched the length of her hand. Each stared at the other while Sam's hand dripped blood, then Sam turned and disappeared into the forest.

A/N - Ooh, cliffhanger. I love writing this story, so sorry about the onslaught of update. R&R, please!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – mild swearing in this chapter, but no big deal…enjoy!

Deep in the forest, Sam looked at the wound with increasing panic. It wasn't all that deep, but it was bleeding profusely.

She was about to go in search of Arc when she heard boots crunching on the forest floor.

Edmund appeared holding a roll of bandages. Wordlessly, he knelt beside Sam and took her injured hand. He ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his tunic and wrapped it around her hand. Just as Sam was about to ask why he'd done that while a roll of bandages sat next to him, he gripped her hand. Hard. She let out a yelp, but understood he had to put pressure on it to stop it bleeding.

Finally, the flow of blood stopped and Edmund wrapped it up. Except for Sam's yelp, they did this in total silence.

Edmund stood and offered his hand. Sam took it with her good hand and stood up.

"You'll have to ride with me."

Sam discovered Edmund's horse tied a few feet away, grazing calmly on forest-floor weeks. Edmund smiled faintly.

"Arc wouldn't let me near her without you around."

Sam cracked a smile. "You're something else, Edmund."

Dinner proved to be amusing for Peter, Susan, and Lucy, because when Lucy inquired what'd happened to Sam's hand, Edmund and Sam told different versions of the story.

They got so caught up in arguing that the other 3 Pevensies simply sat back and watched.

Finally, it go to be too much.

"Quiet!" Peter bellowed.

There was silence.

"WHAT are you two arguing about?"

Edmund and Sam looked from Peter to each other, then simultaneously answered:

"I don't remember."

Lucy and Susan dissolved into laughter, followed shortly by Edmund and Sam, while Peter smacked his forehead and muttered, "Just an ordinary night among the Kings and Queens of Narnia."

Sam slept late the next morning, and when she rose she stole into Edmund's room and took a book from his shelf.

Expecting a stuffy Narnian history, Sam got a mystery novel called 'Memory Tree' that she found enthralling. And it was so that she sat in her room for two more hours in an overstuffed armchair by the window.

Edmund stumbled into his room with a clang, metal armour heavy on his shoulders. Sam jumped half a foot in her room, threw down the book, and raced to see what was going on.

"Oh," she said, upon seeing it was only Edmund. "Where've you been?"

"What are you, my mother? I was dueling."

Sam rolled her eyes, the sword matches always seemed pointless shows of muscle to her. Edmund lifted a breastplate over his head and shook out his dark hair, even curlier than usual from sweat.

He stripped down to trousers and a tunic.

Sam looked at Edmund's shirt. "Ed? What color's your tunic supposed to be?"

"Green. Why?"

"Then you're bleeding."

Edmund looked down, put a hand to his chest, and drew it away crimson.

He looked up at Sam and then at his hand again.

"Well, damn."

Yay...more cliffhanger-ness. But I promise it won't be long till I update again! (summer days are boring)


	5. Chapter 5

"Edmund are you in-Oh, my goodness!"

Susan stood in the doorway of Edmund's room, her hand over her mouth. Sam looked up.

"Susan! The duel, he must've-"

"I know! I'll go get Lu!"

Within a second she was gone.

Sam peered into Edmund's eyes. "Ed? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you, now help me!"

"He's fine," Sam muttered. She opened a drawer and, surprisingly, found the bandages.

Sam pulled Edmund's shirt over his head, willing the blush that rose in her cheeks to fade. Then she wet a cloth and mopped most of the blood off his chest.

"You are a very lucky king, this is a shallow cut and nowhere near your heart."

Edmund laughed bitterly. "What heart?"

Sam hit him lightly on the forehead. "This is no time to be pessimistic, just let me bandage it and you'll be fine."

Susan and Lucy appeared in the doorway.

"He's fine, he's fine. It's a shallow wound."

Lucy stepped forward with the small red cordial. "Just in case."

Sam shrugged and stepped aside.

Lucy poured a drop down Edmund's throat, and he smacked his lips lazily.

"I'll live, I think, and this definitely isn't heaven." Edmund gestured towards Sam. "It can't be, Sam's here."

Lucy rolled her eyes and kissed Edmund's forehead. "I'm glad you're all right."

Sam made a gagging sound, but Lucy ignored her. She and Susan went to tell Peter, leaving Sam to take care of Edmund.

Sam wrapped Edmund's chest in bandages and went to her room. She still had a book to finish.

In the middle of the night, Sam awoke to someone crying her name.

Edmund, she though. Must be dreaming…

"Samantha! Will you get in here now, before I bleed to death!"

Sam sat up. Maybe she'd better check, just to make sure…

Edmund's dark curls were soaked with sweat, as was the rest of him. His eyes were full of pain, and the wound on his chest was pouring dark blood again.

He must've torn it open in his sleep, Sam though.

"Ed...Edmund, listen to me. Calm down. I'll take care of you."

"Please, Sam. It's hurts," Edmund whimpered. His eyes brimmed with tears.

Sam wet a cloth again and wiped away the blood. But in an instant, fresh blood replaced it. Sighing, Sam took a towel and pressed it against Edmund's chest. His back arched and he moaned, "Stop! That hurts!"

"I know, Edmund. But I have to stop it gushing blood like that, do you want to bleed to death?"

Edmund's breathing was heavy, but he stayed quiet. Finally the blood stopped. Sam dropped the towel, now soaked in blood, in disgust and wrapped his chest again. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead and saw he'd been crying, and she hadn't even noticed.

Slowly, Sam leaned forward and kissed Edmund's cheek. Edmund put his hands on either side of her face, pulled her toward him, and kissed her full on the mouth.

After a moment they broke apart, and Sam smiled and turned to go back to her room.

"Night, Sam."

"Night, Edmund."


	6. Chapter 6

"We're going to have a ball!"

Sam groggily opened her eyes when she felt someone heavy jump on her. It was too soft to be Edmund, and too small to be Susan, so it must be Lucy.

Sure enough, when Sam sat up, Lucy was bounding eagerly on Sam's bed.

"Lucyyyy….It's so early!

Susan stood beside Sam's bed. "No, it's almost time for lunch. But tonight, there's going to be a ball."

"Why?"

"We're celebrating!" Lucy exclaimed. Sometimes Sam had a hard time remembering she was younger than Lucy.

"We finally got all the paperwork done," Susan explained, "and we've finally annexed your country. So we're having a ball to celebrate."

"And Susan and I are gonna make you GORGEOUS for the dance!" A smile crept across Lucy's face. "And for Edmund."

Sam tried to object, but Lucy silenced her. Sam knew she couldn't convince them otherwise…Especially because it was true.

"Now, get dressed," said Susan briskly, "We have to eat quickly if there's to be time for all of us to get ready."

Sam sighed and allowed herself to be dragged out of bed.

Susan and Lucy were rummaging through Sam's closet with little success.

"Sam, don't you have ANY ball-worthy gowns?"

"Before I left for here, my chambermaid ran away and took most of my stuff. She left me the dresses you see, most of my shoes and underclothes, and everything in my mother's jewelry box. Namely, my tiara, my mom's tiara, my mom's necklace, and a diamond promise ring. That ring was the ring my father gave to my mother when they were in theirs 20s, I think, and they swore they'd get married somehow, legally. And they did."

Lucy grinned at the romantic story, but announced, "That's a lovely bedtime tale, but it doesn't change the fact that the silkiest thing you have in here is a nightgown."

"You will wear one of my old dresses, " said Susan, sizing Sam up. "I think you'll fit."

Susan's trained eye was right, and the dress looked good on Sam. Lucy and Susan busied themselves fixing her hair and adding things here, taking away there, lacing up this, that, and the other…Until, finally, they declared she was ready.

It took them only half the time to get ready themselves, and they were just in time.

"Now, remember, Sam, that you're considered a Queen here because now your country, with is under your rule, is part of Narnia."

Sam nodded.

"Presenting," a man at the top of a tall staircase called, "High King Peter."

Peter walked down the steps and up to the dais with the grace of one who's done it many time.

"Presenting Queen Susan."

Susan followed the same was, then Edmund, then Lucy.

"Presenting, Queen Samantha."

Edmund fought hard to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight of her.

He lost.

Sam's dress was a deep blue edged in gold lace, with a sparkling gold sash tied at her waist. The top of the dress ended like it was strapless, but a gold ribbon like the one at her waist was attached at both sides of the top and tied at the back of her neck like a halter top. Her mother's gold tiara, inlaid with diamonds and a single sapphire, sat atop her red hair. Susan had pulled half of Sam's hair back, but left the rest curling about her shoulder, with a few renegade strands in her eyes.

Sam went down the steps, a bit unsteady on her feet, and paused, not sure where to go. Susan grinned and motioned the throne beside Lucy.

Trying not to look too surprised at getting a throne, Sam made her was to the dais and sat.

Her eyes went first to Edmund, who, with all his willpower, was looking straight ahead and not at her. Sam's smile faltered a bit and she drooped in her chair.

Lucy looked from Edmund to Sam, seeing as she was between them and could easily reach both. She elbowed Edmund sharply and he jumped, startled.

"What was that for?" Edmund hissed quietly.

"Look at your princess like you know how good she looks," Lucy hissed back with even more venom.

"Why should I care how Sam looks," Edmund muttered, trying to keep up with the façade that he and Sam didn't get along.

Lucy smirked and Edmund realized he'd cornered himself. "I never said it was Sam."

Edmund sighed and snuck a peek and Sam she met his eyes turned red, but the smile returned to her face.

Lucy's smirk grew, if possible, even wider, "Told you."


	7. Chapter 7

Peter stood from his throne and addressed the crowd.

"Good people and fellow Narnians, we come together tonight to celebrate not one, but two, wonderful additions to Narnia. One is the country of Finichland, a small but beautiful country off Archenland's east border. The second is a new Queen of Narnia-Finichland's old princess, Queen Samantha. Now, both of these are very good reasons to celebrate, but two together provide not just a good reason, but inexcusable opportunity! And now, let the ball begin!"

There were cheers and the Narnians began to mingle, to talk, and mostly, to dance.

Peter turned to Sam and held out his hand.

"A dance, then? For the show of it, as High King I'm expected to dance with whoever we're honoring, provided they're female."

Sam mustered a smile and gave Peter her hand. They danced a simple 2-1-2 step and Peter went to dance with some other girl. Sam stepped back and watched the swirling colors of the dresses and heard the music and laughter.

A hand rested on her shoulder. Sam jumped and turned to face Edmund.

"Have you ever danced a traditional Narnia dance?" he asked. Sam shook for head and laughed.

"I'm not from here, remember? What, are you going to teach me?"

Edmund smiled a very un-Edmund-like smile. "That is exactly what I'm going to do."

As if on cue, the music changed to a Narnia original and Edmund led Sam onto the floor.

"Ok, follow me."

Edmund put his hand on her waist and guided her hand to his shoulder. Then, he took her free hand with his.

"Alright. Step forward, now back. Forward, back. Now go to the left, two steps. To the right, forward, back, forward twice, back, to the right, once, back once, to the right twice. Spin the lady, that's it!"

Edmund extended one arm and Sam twirled, her dress swinging out.

"Ok, tired yet? Good, because that's repeated a lot."

Edmund was right, and Sam was utterly exhausted after the dance. She was grinning, though, wide enough that it seemed her smile would fall right off her face.

The next morning, Sam tapped on Susan's door. Susan answered, her hair still messy and her bed unmade.

"Did I wake you up?" Sam asked.

"No, I was awake. Or, as awake as I am before breakfast. About to get dressed. Whatcha need?"

Sam held out Susan's dress. "I came to give you this back."

Susan waved a dismissive hand. "Keep it. It's too small on me anyhow."

Sam looked surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. You can leave it here for now, though, cause if you'll give a minute to get dressed, we have to go down to breakfast."

Susan was rummaging through her closet for something to wear. Moments later they were on their way downstairs.

At breakfast, Peter was almost asleep in his toast. Lucy was bubbling over with news about the ball, Susan was facedown in a coffee cup,(if they didn't have coffee then, that's their problem) and Edmund was stuck with saying 'uh-huh' and 'oh, really?' to Lucy's gossip.

Sam slid into a chair next to him. He looked at her like she was a savior, now he could to talk to her and let Lucy talk Peter into either sleep or wakefullness.

"So, what doth thou wish to do today?"

Sam couldn't resist: "Learn Old English, O majestic King?"

"If you keep calling me majestic, I think that'd be a great idea."

Sam elbowed him. Then she saw the faraway, albeit sleepy, look in Peter's eyes.

"Come on, Lu, don't talk him to death." And to Peter: "Who're you mooning over?"

Peter looked up, now awake. "Huh? What? Oh, morning Sam. When did you get here?"

Sam smacked her forehead. "Oh, here? You mean the Twilight Kingdom Zone of Weirdness? Been here about a week. Or did you eman the breakfast table, just a moment ago, before you woke up."

Peter looked at Edmund and whistled. "I don't know why you picked such a snapper, but I do know you'd better not forget any birthdays."

A/N – AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! Onslaught of characters!! I love you all so much for sending them to me, but, unfortunatley, I am not the kind fo perverted person who'd give Peter 30,000 girlfriends. So, sadly, I can only fit in one. But do not fear! I shall input your characters other places as maids, hairdressers, market-workers, princesses from faraway lands, random people, ect. I love you all!! (I know I said the girl would appear n this chapter, but it wouldn't work. She'll be at the NEXT dance, for their will be one. foreshadow)


	8. Chapter 8

Ever since that night Edmund kissed her, Sam had wondered if Edmund liked her as much as she liked him. He'd shown no signs that she could see-which is both absurd and true, he'd sent a great many signs, Sam just couldn't them. And now, her birthday was in a week and a half. She wondered if she should tell him.

They were lounging around Edmund's room, being lazy and talking.

"Hey, Ed, when's your birthday?" Sam piped up from a lull in the conversation.

"A week and a half from today. When's yours?"

Sam's mouth fell open. That was not she expected. Edmund had the same birthday she did!

"A week and a half from today," Sam replied.

Edmund arched his eyebrows. "Interesting. I wonder how Susan will manage that."

Sam looked confused. "What's Susan got to do with anything?"

"Susan's in charge of finding someone to help with all our parties and balls and stuff like that. Peter can't do everything," Edmund explained. "But we have a huge ball for all our birthdays, I wonder how she'll manage two people at the same time."

"Knowing Susan, she'll have a blowout party with more people than is possible."

"Probably. Oh, this does pose a problem. What am I going to get you?" Edmund wondered aloud.

"The idea is to not tell me, idiot. But I'm flattered, I didn't expect to get anything at all."

"Don't be. Peter makes us, and Lucy pulls a guilt trip for the next three weeks if anyone's present isn't decent."

Sam mock pouted. "And here I thought you liked me enough to give me a present out f the goodness of your heart."

Edmund sat up with his face twisted into a theatrical version of shock. "I am amazed, Lady Samantha. Where art thou been? Doth thee not know I have no goodness in my heart?"

"Obviously, because it was kicked out by your passion for Old English."

Edmund sat back, smirking. "That too."

"So, speaking of birthday presents and Lucy's vengeance, what am I going to get you?" Sam asked.

"A gift from thine own heart, my lady."

Sam sat up, cleared her throat, and put on a perfect imitation of the expression Edmund had sported a moment ago. "I am amazed, King Edmund. Where art thou been? Doth the not know I have no heart?"

Edmund chortled. "Impressive. You're an actress, I see."

Sam shook her head. "Nah. But I am amazingly skilled in annoying you, and whatever it takes."

"That I can agree with."

The day before their birthdays, Sam tapped lightly on Edmund's doorframe. Edmund looked up from a book he'd been reading.

"Since when do you knock?"

Sam drew a present out from behind her back. "I figured I'd go on and give you this, since there'll be no time at all tomorrow."

Edmund look surprised. "You got me a present?"

Sam laughed, easing some of the tension. "I don't hate you THAT much, Ed. Besides, you DO know where I live."

"That's the understatement of the year."

Edmund disappeared over the edge of the bed, then resurfaced with a large box. "Here."

They exchanged presents and Sam settled at the foot of Edmund's bed. "You first."

Edmund shrugged and tore the wrapping off the long box. He opened one end and drew out a long sword. He boggled.

The sword was dwarf-made steel, the best around, and the hilt was gilded and inlaid with a ruby.

Edmund whistled. "That, my friend, is one very nice sword. And it must've cost a pretty penny."

The look on Sam's face was priceless. "I thought you'd like it."

"It's better than my best. Now you, open yours."

Sam unraveled the long blue ribbon and set it beside her, then pulled the paper off and lifted the top of the box.

"Ed!" Sam gasped. In the box lay the most beautiful gown she'd ever seen.

It was green silk, with off-the-shoulder sleeves. Where the sleeves hit her arms, it looked as if they'd been split down the length of her arm and they hung from her elbows and would, she imagined, billow behind her when she walked. The dress had a white sash and was frothy with white lace on the bodice and the hem. Underneath the dress was a long silver chain with a single diamond on it.

Sam carefully set the box aside and tackled Edmund in a hug.

"Oof!" came Edmund's muffled cry. He wrapped his arms around her for a moment, then turned red and they pulled apart.

As Edmund's face turned back to normal, Sam examined the dress further.

"I was hoping you could where it to the ball tomorrow," Edmund mumbled.

Sam arched a suspicious eyebrow. "What did you do, put a snake in the bodice?"

Edmund laughed. "No. I was just hoping."

"Sure. Why not? I like snakes."

This time they both laughed.

"Hey, Ed, what's this?"

Sam lifted something made of cream-colored satin and turned it over. It had spaghetti straps and looked to go down to one's knees, with a modest neckline and buttons down the back.

"Edmund?"

Edmund turned crimson. "I am going to kill Susan."

Sam, realizing what it was, turned just as red. "What's Susan got to do with this?"

Edmund sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Susan helped me pick out the dress, OK? I'm hopeless when it comes to clothes, so I asked her. She knew your size, too, which was something I wasn't going to outright ask you. While we were in the market, I saw this one and Susan said it was a good choice. I'd allotted a sum of money, and this even came in under budget, even after the necklace. Susan must've snuck this in, with the extra money."

Sam giggled, trying to feel empathy for Edmund. It didn't work, and soon she was cracking up. Her laugh was contagious, and soon Edmund was laughing. When they finally quieted, Sam folded everything back up and put it back in the box.

"You can have it, if you want, to strangle Susan with."

A mischievous twinkle entered Edmund's eyes. "Nah, keep it. Maybe one day I'll get to see you in it."

Sam smacked his arm. "Perv!" But she was laughing.

A/N - OK, so you all found out what the big dance is. But I bet you don't know what happens at the ball! Well, I know you don't know, because I'm not totally sure myself. But anyways, the biggest and bestest chapter yet is coming up!

(by the way, I am sooooooooo sorry, but some of your characters didn't fit into the story. I love you soooo much for sending them in, but there were only a few spots. cries don't hate me...)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N – and thus begins the longest chapter EVER. Enjoy.

The morning of Edmund and Sam's birthday, the three other Pevensie siblings burst into Edmund's quarters.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

Edmund rolled over. "5 more minutes."

There was a resounding THUNK in Sam's room. Edmund sat up. His hair was standing straight up and lines form the sheets were imprinted across his face, chest, and arms.

He ambled into Sam's room. Peter, Susan and Lucy heard a laugh, a yawn, and a muffled "Put me down!" and Edmund emerged from Sam's room carrying Sam over his shoulder. He dropped her unceremoniously onto his bed and leaned against a bedpost.

"So, we're all here and awake. Why, pray tell, are we awake at this hour.

"One, to wish you guys a happy birthday," Lucy counted off.

"Two, to give you your presents before all heck breaks loose," Peter added.

"And three, to whisk away Sam and make her gorgeous for the ball," Susan finished.

Edmund grunted. Sam voice came, "Well, you're a morning person, huh?"

Peter smirked at her. "You don't know the half of it."

Peter came forward carrying two boxes. For Edmund, it was a sword-maintenance kit. For Sam, a chain-mail shirt. Susan gave Edmund a new saddle and bridle for his horse, and emerald earrings to Sam. "To match your dress," Susan explained, grinning.

Edmund couldn't help himself. "Oh yeah? How 'bout a bracelet to match her nightgown?"

Peter and Lucy looked baffled, Susan look smug, and Sam cracked up.

"Boy, we're an odd bunch," Lucy muttered, and handed over her gifts. She gave Edmund a couple of new tunics and a dagger, and Sam got a cherry-wood jewelry box with a painted flower on the lid.

Then, as said, the girls herded Sam out, with her dress and jewelry, and Peter sank into an overstuffed chair. He looked at Edmund.

"You're mad for her, then?"

This caught Edmund off guard. He sighed. "Completely."

Peter grinned. "Don't look like the sky's falling, Ed. She likes you just as much as you do her, it's written all over her face."

"Says you."

"Says I. And for once, you ought to listen to me. Sam's a great girl, and if you don't make a move, someone else will. Probably at the ball tonight, to, because she's of age now. 18."

Edmund nodded. Peter put a hand lightly on his shoulder and left.

In Susan's room, as it was the biggest, a 24-year-old woman with long brown, naturally highlighted hair, brown gold-flecked eyes, and tan skin surveyed Sam.

In a lilting, sweet voice with a foreign accent, "Samantha, your mother would be proud to see you. You have turned into a gorgeous girl, but you don't know it!" Now her voice turned gently chiding. "You do not need to hide behind other people, girl. Be bold! Act like you know you are gorgeous."

The woman, whose name was Nicole, was from Sam's home country. When Sam's mother had died, Nicole had almost become a second mother. Now, Susan and Lucy had hired her to do Sam up for the ball. Sam was overjoyed to see Nicole again.

Sam wanted to hug her, but seeing as she'd been stripped down to a silken slip, she thought it better to smile and reply, "It's so great to see you, Nicole!"

"Greetings later," Nicole instructed, "beauty now!" Nicole et to work. She had Sam put her dress on, then laced it up the back. She made sure the sleeves fell just right, fluffed the lace around the bodice, and retied the back a little tighter.

"There! Now, you flaunt the figure your mother gave you. Now, your hair."

Nicole outdid herself. She plaited Sam's hair with threads of gold and piled it high on top of her head. A few curls fell down around her face, but Nicole left them, saying they added 'character'.

She fasted Edmund's necklace and Lucy's earrings, then looped on Sam's white sash and painted her lips a peachy pink.

"Now, darling, I have a gift for you. From your mother."

Sam gasped. Nicole held a delicate silver tiara inlaid with diamonds and emeralds. It was not a usual solid shape, with strands of silver swirled about to hold it all together. Nicole set it gently over Sam's hair and sat back, smiling.

"Now, you are no longer Sam. You are Samantha Kildorina Ankottic. You are your mother's daughter."

The annoying announcer guy was back. He stood, again, off to one side of the top of stairs, and yelled in a nasally voice the names of kings, queens, princes, and princesses, that came down. Three, in particular, besides Sam and the Pevensies, were of interest.

One was named Kathleen. She had brown curly hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. She was tall and slender, and looked quiet and shy. Her ball gown was long and the same shade of blue as her eyes.

Another was named Amber. She had pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Her dress was a shimmering pink, with gold embroidery and short sleeves. She had a calculating look about her eyes, and they swept the crowd, looking for someone.

The third, which was of great interest to one King of Narnia, was named Alexandria, call-me-Andy. She had pale, freckled skin with the looks it was easy to make her blush. Her long brown hair has loose curls in it. She looked nervous to be in front of so many people, and with the kings and queens of Narnia. Her gown was simple, lavender with ties up the back and a white sash.

Then the annoying announcer who, Sam noticed, was wearing and uncomfortable-looking purple jacket, called out the four Pevensies and Sam.

Edmund didn't even try to keep his mouth shut. This time, instead of looking nervous, Sam looked poised and proud.

"Fellow Narnians, I greet you with the greatest pleasure. My brother is turning 22, my friend, 18. What better reason to celebrate?"

A rousing cheer.

"Let the ball begin, then, with a traditional Narnia dance. And I ask you, Edmund and Samantha, to begin."

Peter turned to look at Edmund and Sam, whose looked equally shocked, with a wide smirk.

"Remember the dance I taught you?" Edmund whispered in Sam's ear and he took her elbows and led her to the floor.

"Yeah."

"Well, we're about to do it again."

After that dance, Peter stepped off the dais and went in search of a girl to dance with. He came upon our Andy, looking nervous and overwhelmed.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently. She jumped. Peter put a hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," she said with a sigh. "My name's Alexandria, or Andy."

"Well then, Andy, would you care to dance?"

Andy, her heart thundering in her chest, nodded and took Peter's extended hand. It was a waltz, she told herself, simple and easy. And Peter's good at heart, you know.

As they were dancing, Peter got to know her.

"You look scared."

"I don't like big crowds."

"Well, what about me? Don't I get bonus points or something?"

Andy cracked a smile for the first time that night. "Oh, I suppose," she said airily, teasing Peter. "But you could just be another boring nobleman…"

Peter, who didn't realize she was teasing, became offended. "I am not boring! What proof do you want?"

Andy laughed. "I'm teasing you, King Peter, you're not boring. It's just fun to get you riled up."

"Oh, please, spare me the 'King' business, my name is Peter."

"Ok, Your Majesty!"

"Andy!"

"Alright, alright. Peter."

"Better."

They talked the whole night. But more about them later…

After Edmund danced with Sam, he seemed to disappear. He was, in truth, trying to get up the nerve to tell her how he felt. But Sam didn't know that, and she was hurt. She was standing off to the side, looking for him, when Amber approached her.

"You have been staring for someone all night," she said kindly. Now, she thought, is my chance to separate these two lovebirds. She is but a forlorn princess of a forgotten country, I am the future ruler or Archenland! I should have Edmund beside me on my throne.

"I'm looking for Edmund," Sam said faintly.

"Ah, child, do not waste your time. Edmund is flighty, a flirt! He is done seducing you, and is now off for another girl."

Sam's chin trembled. "Cry not, child. Move on. Dance with him, that cute prince over there."

Sam nodded and went over to him, trying to get Edmund out of her mind.

A few people away, shy Kathleen heard everything. But she knew Edmund did like Sam, loved her. She'd heard him pacing outside in the courtyard, trying to put his feelings into words. She must stop this!

Just then, Edmund came back in. He saw Sam dancing and laughing with a blonde, green-eyed prince and felt jealousy stab at his heart. "Sam?" he whispered. Kathleen appeared beside him. Frantic, she explained everything. Edmund's eyes grew steadily wider, then spit fire. "I thank you deeply, my lady. But if you will excuse me, I'm going to go get my girl back."

Kathleen smiled. Her work was done. Now, she was could muster up the courage to walk to the cute, ebony-haired 20-soemthing that had been eyeing her all night.

Edmund stormed over to the blonde prince and tapped his shoulder. Putting on his fakest smile, he asked, "Mind if I cut in?"

Not one to turn down a prince, the man nodded and walked quickly away. Sam turned to him, fuming.

"Edmund Pevensie, you have no right to do that!"

Edmund wasn't fazed by her anger. "Samantha, I know what that woman said to you. Called me a flirt, and said I didn't really like you, didn't she? Well, she's wrong. On both accounts."

Sam's anger subsided. "How do you know what she said," she asked quietly.

"A friend told me. Will you come outside, just for a moment? Please?" The look in Edmund's blue eyes was so pleading, Sam had to give it.

"A moment is all."

Once outside, Edmund turned to face her. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Samantha, I know that woman told you I didn't like you. I don't. I _love_ you."

Sam felt her knees go weak. Edmund steadied her and put his forehead to her. His hot breath spilled over her cheek.

"The question seems to be, Sam, is do you love me?"

Sam took a deep breath and inhaled Edmund's comforting, intoxicating blend of leather, cinnamon, and cherries. Where he got all that is something I can't answer.

"Yes, Edmund. I love you more than you'd guess."

Edmund let go of her, ran up to bench, jumped off it, and let out a very un-king-like "Wah-hoo! She loves me!" Then he came back over to Sam and kissed her soundly. She swooned a bit when they come up for air.

"Best birthday ever."

Meanwhile, in a different courtyard, Peter and Andy were sitting on a bench. Andy shivered a bit and Peter found the excuse to wrap an arm around her. Chemistry pulled them together.

"Andy? I've know you for 2 hours, and you're already the most fascinating girl I've ever met."

"Aww, only fascinating? I was hoping for pretty, gorgeous, intoxicating, ect."

"Ok. Andy, the most fascinating, pretty, gorgeous, intoxicating, girl I've ever met, can I kiss you?"

"Well, since you said intoxicating…"

Peter didn't wait for a straightforward 'yes', he simply kissed her.

When they broke apart, he whispered in her ear: "The ball's not over yet, and it's not even my birthday."

A/N - YAY! This was the most exauhsting chapter yet to write, and the ball's not even over! For those who didn't see your characters, they are either in the next chap or ran out of spots. I'll giveall character credit in the next chap, b/c my mom is yelling at me to go to bed and turn of the blasted computer-her words, not mine.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N – Sorry, guys, but a small revision has occurred, the ball's already over and if your character's not in yet, chances are I couldn't fit it. Sorry, but I love you all anyway!!

Sam discovered two things very quickly. One-Edmund is not romantic at all. Well, scratch that, he's romantic every now and then. Sam's theory was that he bottled it all up and let it out when the time was right. Usually roughly once every two weeks, when Sam was being sweet instead of cynical. Edmund was always getting injured-jousting, dueling, falling off things-typical Edmund.

Occasionally the wounds were bad, and Edmund would stumble in, his eyes dark with pain. He'd call her name hoarsely, she's call, "WHAT?" and come out in a moment. She'd see Edmund's state, turn a shade or two whiter, and rush to him. He'd strip to the waist and she'd mop up the blood and bandage whatever was hurt, usually a leg or an arm. Then she'd stroke his forehead until the pain subsided, at which point he'd pull her on top of him and kiss her soundly.

The second thing she learned was that a love-struck Peter was almost as crazy as a love-lost Peter; that is, Andy had left to go back home, and though she wrote, she wrote of scores of boring suitors. Peter lived in dread of a not-so-boring suitor to outdo him.

That's why what happened at dinner was so awesome.

The five of them were sitting together, and, as per usual, teasing each other mercilessly.

"Peter, cheer up, if your head droops any farther you're going to be breathing mashed potatoes," Susan prodded.

"Oh, leave him alone, he's just sa-" Sam's defense was cut short by someone bursting into the room.

"Peter!" Peter couldn't believe his eyes. It was Andy! He leapt up, his chair skittering forlornly on the floor, and a grin spread over his chiseled features.

"Andy?"

"Who else?"

Peter swept her up in a sweet embrace. Andy's long hair spilled over his shoulders and he took her face between his hands.

"What ARE you doing here?"

"My father's here for business-I was hoping I could stay with you?"

"We'll figure something out-I'm just glad you're here!' And with that, Peter kissed her hungrily, with the built-up passion of several weeks.

Sam elbowed Edmund. "How come you never do that to me?"

"You leave for a couple weeks, and I'll suck your teeth out like Peter is when you get back."

Sam elbowed him again. "OK, so I deserved that," Edmund admitted.

"Yeah."

Lucy, Susan, Edmund, and Sam all cleared out and left Peter and Andy alone, not that they noticed, they were so absorbed in each other.

Sam and Edmund each went their separate ways, Sam to train in swordfighting, Edmund to a duel. They both returned at the same time, however.

"Dueling? AGAIN?" Sam asked dryly.

"Yes. What were you doing dressed in chain mail with a sword at your hip?"

"Only training. Am I going to have to play nurse again?"

Edmund struggled to get the heavy armor off.

"No. help me get this off, will you?"

Grumbling something about 'undressing a king', Sam unlaced the back and helped pull the breastplate off him.

"OK, you turn," Sam ordered, "help me!"

Obligingly, Edmund worked at the back of her chain mail.

"Sam? In this training…Did you get hurt?"

"Shouldn't have, save for a few bruises."

"Oh, Sam."

"What?!"

Edmund showered her his hand: covered in half-dried blood. Sam paled.

"Calm down," he ordered, "you'll be fine. It's across the back of your stomach, and nowhere near fatal if we bandage it up all right."

"Ed, you don't have to-OWW!"

Edmund had pulled her tunic over her head, yanking where the blood had dried the shirt to her skin and almost reopening the half-healed wound.

"Sorry!"

Sam grimaced. "Just hurry up, Edmund."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to….Sam?"

Sam hated that. When Edmund got truly remorseful, Sam couldn't ever say no or stay mad.

"It's alright."

Carefully, Edmund cleaned the wound and bandaged it. Sam pulled her tunic back over the camisole she'd been wearing, which was now bloodstained by the way Edmund had had to hike it up over the wound to get to it.

"Thanks," said Sam grudgingly. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, they were all but obscured the huge crash of thunder, followed by the steady drumming of heavy rain. Sam looked uneasy.

"What's wrong with you?" Edmund asked, curious.

"I don't like thunderstorms…can't sleep during them, either."

"Go get dressed for bed, I think we can get you to sleep."

Sam gave him a murderous glare. He threw up his hands. "Shame on you. Why kind of man do you think I am? That is NOT what I meant."

Sam slammed the door to her room all the same, but came out a few moments later with her hair down and a nightgown on. Edmund was already in his bed, reading.

"What?"

"Don't be cross. I'm only trying to help, I was going to let you stay with me tonight."

Sam wasn't sure if she hated him because he knew it would work or because he sounded like an older brother, not a man interested in her. But she'd solved that problem when she was little by sleeping in her parents' bed.

Murmuring darkly, Sam climbed under the covers.

"You're bed's a lot nicer than mine." Indeed, Edmund's bed had layer after layer of fluffy down blankets and feather pillows.

However, Edmund turned his back on her to turn out the lamp and stayed that way, facing away from her. Thunder crashed again, and Sam instinctively moved closer to him. He rolled over, coming face-to-face with her.

"Scared? Still?"

As if that were an excuse, Edmund moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. Sam snuggled into his chest and discovered she felt completely comfortable and not scared in the least. Edmund tipped her chin up and kissed her softly.

"Still scared?"

Edmund kissed her forehead.

"Nope."


	11. Chapter 11

Sam was momentarily lost when she woke up. Soft breath spilled across her face not her own, and the sun shone from all the wrong angles. It didn't take her long to identify where she was. Happily, she moved a bit closer to Edmund and went back to sleep.

At breakfast, a messenger came in with an urgent letter for Sam.

"I wonder-oh, it's from my homeland. My father's accountant has written, I wonder why…"

Sam scanned the letter, and the horror grew on her face.

"What is it?" Susan asked, worried for her friend.

"'I write to you of plans your father made upon your birth,'" Sam read, "'plans that involves a treaty with a great and powerful nation. This country very nearly declared was on us, which our country surely could not survive, but your father promised your hand in marriage to the crown prince. This treaty still stands in light of your father's passing, and in 3 weeks' time the prince, now king, will come for you at your current residence. If you refuse, the country will declare war. I write in advance, for I come by horse to your palace to discuss this matter with you. If I may request a meeting with the Majesties and yourself to discuss the technicalities, it would be most appreciable. Yours truly, Marcus Wimbled.'"

Sam looked up to take in their reaction. Lucy, in denial, repeated, "Wimbled? Who has a name like that?"

Susan, like Peter, looked at Edmund, who was very white. His fork clattered to the floor en route to his mouth.

"Engaged?" he croaked, and turned and fled the room.


	12. Chapter 12

For three days Sam saw neither hide nor hair of Edmund. He and Peter were at war council all the time, and took their meals there. No matter how late Sam stayed awake at night, she could never catch Edmund coming in, and no matter how early she got up, Edmund's bed was a mess and he was gone. On the morning of the fourth day Peter appeared in her doorway.

"You father's account came two days ago. He has determined that since your country is now part of Narnia, declaring was on you will be declaring was on all of Narnia. With your consent, we will break the engagement and, if necessary, go to war."

Sam was appalled. "Peter, you cannot go to war on my behalf."

"Not entirely, though that would make a nice bedtime story. No, Samantha, this country has been giving us grief for years, pilfering our goods and marauding our villages. Now we have a legitimate reason to conquer-or destroy-them."

"I am greatly in your debt, then, Peter, and I give my consent to break the engagement and the treaty."

Peter nodded briskly and turned away.

"Peter!"

He turned and looked questioningly at Sam.

"Have you seen Edmund? Does he know about all of this?"

"He knows only that we may go to war. We will tell him when it is finalized in only a few moments. But, Sam-this has greatly distressed him. I hope he'll be fine, but keep and ear out for him when he's here, will you?"

Sam nodded but mumbled, "If he's EVER here."

That night, it stormed. A violent tempest beat against Sam's window and thunder ruled the sky. She tossed and turned, completely unable to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, her door opened. Edmund's broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway.

"Sam? Are you awake?" he called in a stage whispered.

"Of course I'm awake, who can sleep in such a racket?"

"You're scared, then?"

"When ELSE have you seen me this out of sorts?"

Edmund stifled a laugh. He walked to her bed and threw the covers off her. HE swept her up and carried her to his room. Together they snuggled under the covers, Edmund's arms wrapped tightly around her.

"The engagement is broken," he whispered in her ear, "but if he's a smart man, this prince won't give you up without a fight."

Sam brushed her fingers across Edmund's cheek. "But he won't win."

Edmund brought her face level with his and kissed her passionately.

"You're right, Sam. Over my dead body will he take you away from me."


	13. Chapter 13

Andy tried not to cry. Peter had arranged for her and her father to be taken home early by his most trusted guards. She was worried, however, that Peter would never come back from this blasted war.

He'd smothered her in kisses before she left, assuring her over and over that'd he'd survive, if for nothing else, for her, and she'd kissed a handkerchief and pressed it into his hand before she left.

3 days later Narnia rode off to war.

Sam did not cry. She was very adamant to herself, telling herself silently, 'You WILL not cry.' She did the traditional thing; she kissed a handkerchief and offered it to Edmund. It was, indeed, an old Narnian tradition to give you blessing via handkerchief to your sweetheart.

She did what was necessary. She watched him ride of, then turned and walked to where Susan and Lucy were standing. They were already miles from Narnia, in a war camp. The trio retreated to a tent, and did what was necessary,

That is, they suited up for war.

Lucy and Susan had armour, and Sam had her chain-mail shirt that she'd gotten for her birthday. Susan loaned a leather bodice to fit over her chain-mail and a pair of tall brown leather boots. Sam objected to wearing a skirt and wore brown trousers instead with chain-mail round her knees. She strapped her sword round her waist and tied her hair back. Together, the three saddled their horses and rode off, to war themselves.

The first battle went well. The kingdom of Nayliand, for that was what it was called, had been a great and powerful country when Sam was born, but plague and famine and drought had fallen upon it and weakened it greatly. This was believe to be a short was.

Sam sustained no injuries, and was working in a hospital tent until the next battle. She treated patient after patient, most of which had fairly curable wounds. A few were impossible to save, and she wept for them, but quickly she dried her eyes and went about the next person.

She only had to treat humans, thankfully, for every creature had healers of its own kind. Soon, a pair of men carried in someone she knew.

Peter.

"Sam?" he moaned. "Oh, Edmund's going to kill me. What ARE you doing here-ow!"

Peter had tried to sit and up fell back down on the cot with another cry of pain. Sam looked him over quickly.

"You've got a sprained shoulder and a few minor gashes. I'll bandage the gashes and brace that shoulder so you can keep fighting."

And so Sam went about that while Peter threw questions at her like rocks.

"Why are you here?"

"This is my country, too."

"So?"

"And it's keeping me from marrying that stupid King."(for he was a king by then, no longer a prince)

"You couldn't have JUST worked in a hospital?"

"I want to fight."

"But Edmund and I don't!"

Sam slammed down a bottle of medicine.

"Peter Pevensie, this is my country, my future, and my friends. I refuse to leave all that up to someone else, no matter how reliable that someone else is. Now you shut your royal mouth, because this is just because I'm a girl, and if I weren't you would wholly support this!"

And Peter was quiet.

Later, Sam was about to dismiss him, when she put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and said softly, "Listen…You won't tell Edmund I'm here, will you?"

Peter looked at her for a long moment. "Sam, if he asks about you, I owe it to him to answer truthfully. But I won't go right out and tell him unless you get hurt. Then he deserves to know, so he can come help you."

"Alright."

Peter left and Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair.

The night continued, with Sam finally being discharged to get some sleep, and the following day was just council meetings. The day after that, another battle came. Sam spent another two days working in the makeshift hospital, and talked to Peter briefly to see if Edmund was alright.

"Well-" Peter hesitated, and Sam blanched. "He had a few minor injuries, along with exhaustion and a bit of dehydration, and he was hallucinating. He's fine now."

"He's okay? Are you sure?"

"He's fine, and that was yesterday. He slept msot of that day and he was awake and fine for war council today. Only, that night he was recovering from all his ailings, Sam, he kept calling for you."

"I wish you hadn't said that, Peter. Do you think I should talk to him?"

Peter looked thoughtful.

"I don't think so, unless he gets hurt again. Seeing you'll only worry him more, and he'll fight badly."

Sam nodded. Unexpectedly, tears came to her eyes. She turned away, trying to hide it. Reaching for a handkerchief, she realized she'd given it to Edmund.


	14. Chapter 14

At the next battle, on Peter's request, Sam stayed in the back lines as an archer instead of going sword-to-sword in the heart of the battle. As arrow after arrow twanged in her borrowed bow, Sam spotted Edmund fighting below. He was doing well. She watched him deflect blow after blow until an arrow whizzed past her ear and she realized she should pay attention.

That battle waged for three days, and the hospitals were flooded with Naylian and Narnian wounded alike. Edmund was not one of them, but Sam was.

A tired-looking faun messenger raced up to Peter.

"High King Peter, High King Peter! Lady Samantha's been hurt, she has!"

Peter stopped dead. "Hurt? How badly?"

"The healers don't know, Sir King, they don't know. They want Your Majesties to come right away!"

"Good, we will come. Please, good faun, do me a favor."

"Anything, Sire."

"Please search the tents for King Edmund and the Queens and tell them to meet me at the hospital. Make them come however you can."

"Yes, High King, I will go!"

The faun raced away, muttering about Lady Samantha hurt, must tell the Majesties!

"We really need to pay them more," Peter muttered.

"We don't pay them."

Peter jumped and looked rapidly about him for the source of the voice.

"It's only me, Peter," said Susan, falling into step beside him.

"Susan! I knew if Sam was here, you and Lucy would be close."

"You were wise to think so. I'm sure the faun will find Lu and Edmund in time."

Together they went to the hospital tent. They weren't ten feet inside before a medic stopped them.

"Your Majesties! Lady Samantha is here, she is hurt-"

"We know," Peter cut her off. "Can you take us to her?"

The medic nodded and scurried with surprising precision among the many cots and nurses. The pounding of feet behind them assured that Edmund and Lucy were on their way. Lucy arrived first, out of breath with concern shining in her eyes. Edmund, on the other hand, was furious.

"How dare she come here!" he spat. "Did you know about this?" He turned on Peter, eyeing blazing.

"Yes, I knew she was here."

"And you didn't tell me?! Do I, of all people, not have a right to now?"

"It was Sam's choice."

"Sam's choice!" Edmund sputtered. "I think not! You control your own mouth, don't you?"

"Edmund!" Peter barked. "Control yourself. You and I both know you're just worried about Sam. Don't take it out on me."

Edmund huffed and stared at the nurse leading them to Sam. Finally, after a solid five minutes of weaving past other patients, they saw Sam's bed.

Susan rested a hand on Edmund's shoulder. Sam was asleep, or unconscious, on the cot. All they could see of her wounds was a white bandage wrapped around her upper arm and the many shallow scratches on her face.

"How bad is it?" Lucy asked.

"Nothing life-threatening."

Edmund visibly relaxed.

"That gash with keep her from fighting for a while, and a touch of food poisoning may add a few days to her recuperation."

"Thanks. We'll come back alter to check on her," said Susan, and then steered Edmund away. He slipped away from her and stole back to Sam to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then left with his siblings.


	15. Chapter 15

The war waged for only six months, long compared to the Great Battle of Narnia, but short compared to the many wars the Pevens

The war waged for only six months, long compared to the Great Battle of Narnia, but short compared to the many wars the Pevensies had fought in. This chapter brings up to the fifth month of the war, when a pair of humans bearing an olive branch and a scroll, and wearing enemy colors, walking through the Narnian camp. The olive branch prevented them from harm, but only by a hair's breadth. Everywhere they walked, Narnian soldiers, human and creature, glared with unveiled contempt. The pair looked increasingly nervous, and gripped their sword hilts tightly with their free hands. Finally they reached the central tent. Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and Samantha waited with chins high and regal, albeit emotionless, expressions.

"Greetings, High King Peter. We come bearing the olive branch of peace-and a peace treaty," said one, who stepped slightly forward and presented the scroll. Peter took it and began to read aloud.

"'Majesties Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy of Aslan's Narnia-I bade your good morn. I, King Albert Soreckt, wish this was to wage no longer. I have sent my best men with the olive branch of peace to deliver this treaty. My terms are simple-'" at which point Edmund spluttered in disbelief, "HIS terms? HE is the one surrendering," and so Susan elbowed him. "'-in order to prevent the lives of our brave soldiers being lost any further, I ask only for Lady Samantha's hand in marriage-an insignificant Lady of the Court of no use to you, as my queen. Pray send a reply with my noble men. Signed, King Albert the Magnificent.'"

At this point, everyone had gone from calm and royal to fighting, raging furious. Peter kept his head long enough to motion o an attendant "Please show these gentlemen to a tent and bring them refreshment while we discuss their offer. They will be retrieved shortly with a reply." The attendant nodded and scurried away with the two men.

"You're not going to give in, are you?" Edmund asked anxiously.

"Of course not. We started this war over that demand, why would we end the war with it?"

"The king must not know that, or he wouldn't have asked for what made us attack his country in the first place," said Lucy.

"I'm not so sure. Maybe he figures they're winning."

"Are they," asked Sam.

"No, not at all," answered Edmund.

Peter scribbled something on a piece of paper and read it aloud. "'King Soreckt, we refuse your terms. May the war continue until you come forward with a treaty lacking in terms other than immediate and complete surrender. Signed, High King Peter."


	16. Chapter 16

Only a month later, the same two emissaries straggled into camp. Edmund happened to be striding hurriedly to Peter's tent to ask about sending the women home – all three were grumbling and complaining no end about the awful conditions and frankly, Edmund was sick of it – when he noticed a bright flash of the opposing colors. The place was in chaos preparing for another attack, and it appeared that no one had noticed the pair. Hand on his sword hilt, Edmund changed direction and cut them off.

Facing them, sword half out of its scabbard, Edmund cleared his throat. The pair both started and terror flickered across their faces. One thrust a bedraggled olive branch towards him. "P-please, Your Majesty," the other stammered, "we come with a treaty."

"It better be an unconditional surrender," Edmund threatened darkly. He remembered the last treaty – Sam's hand in marriage! Over my cold, dead body, he swore to himself.

"W-we don't know, Sire," the one with the olive branch stuttered. "We don't get to read the messages, just deliver them."

"It better be," Edmund repeated. He let his sword go, and it dropped back into its scabbard with a grating, harsh noise. He turned abruptly on the heel of his boot and motioned angrily at the emissaries. "Come on," he snapped. He led them through the bustling camp to the pavilion where they'd been received a month ago.

Halfway there, Edmund faintly heard one of the men mutter, "How can they live amongst these filthy _animals? _Why, these creatures are no better than pigs!"

With a roar of rage, Edmund swung around, sword in hand. "_Pigs?!" _he thundered. "You have the nerve to call these brave, dignified creatures _pigs?! _That may well be a compliment coming from _scum _like you, you filthy lowlife bas-" He was cut off by a soft hand on his elbow. He couldn't see her face, but he knew Sam's touch.

"Calm down," she murmured in his ear. "You can't kill the messengers if they come with a peace treaty."

"Sure I can," he muttered darkly, sheathing his sword. "Watch me." He heard her quiet laugh and, relaxing a fraction, jerked he hand towards the pavilion and stalked towards it, Sam in tow. Peter, Lucy, and Susan awaited them, looking a good deal more royal than the furious Edmund dragging Sam.

Peter held out his hand for the treaty scroll, wasting no time on formalities. His siblings and Sam gathered around him to read over his shoulder.

_High King Peter_

_Queen Susan_

_King Edmund_

_Queen Lucy_

_Lady Samantha_ (Here, Edmund scowled and muttered, "_Queen _Samantha." Lucy groaned and remarked, "This looks too long to be an unconditional surrender)

_I ask Lady Samantha's hand in marriage in exchange for my complete surrender. In addition to my total surrender I will send to you:_

_100 pounds of the finest grain_

_300 bottles of the finest wine_

(And a list of his offers followed)

As Sam read over the list of items the king offered in exchange for her hand, she grew more and more worried. He offered land, gold, food – all sorts of things in great quantities. It was a good offer. The Pevensies would be fools not to take it.

Peter looked up and dismissed the emissaries to a refreshment tent. Then he turned to his siblings. "This is a good offer. In fact, it is a spectacular offer," he began, and Sam clung to Edmund. His jaw set in anger and his eyes full of rage, he wrapped strong arms around her shoulders. He opened his mouth to protest, but Peter held up a hand.

"It is a good offer," he repeated. "But we will not take it. We were preparing for an attack before this message came." He took a deep breath and said, "Let this be our most ferocious yet."

The siblings strode off in search of their armour and weapons, but Edmund and Sam remained on the pavilion. The scroll lay forgotten on a table. Edmund glanced at it and shook his head.

"Never," he muttered. "Never will I turn you over to him."

Sam let out a sigh of relief. Edmund tilted her face up to meet her eyes. "Did you honestly think I would?"

"Not you," Sam admitted, "but maybe Peter."

"I wouldn't let him," Edmund disagreed. "Sorry, love, but you're not going anywhere."

Sam grinned and shifted to her tiptoes to peck him on the lips. He caught her face and kissed her in earnest, leaving her gasping and her head spinning.

"Damn it, Edmund," she gasped out.

"What, not used to me having power over you?" he teased. Still breathless, she shook her head. He laughed. "Get used to it," he told her, kissing her again.

"Hey, you two! Get a room after the war's over!" Peter shouted. He motioned to them, and the trio joined the throng of soldiers heading to battle.

"I'm getting really annoyed with this guy," Edmund remarked to Sam halfway through the battle as they both watched the king sit high above his dying soldiers in a gilded throne. "Just watching his people die like that. But I could've really used the gold and diamonds he offered."

Sam could only wonder and hope at what he meant by _that._

Peter threw open the doors to the castle and drew in a deep breath. "Home!" he called. "At last." Then he spotted Andy lurking in a corner, and both of them disappeared for a while. Susan, Lucy, Edmund and Sam came rushing through the door just in time to find him leaving, Andy in tow. Caspian was perched on the staircase and he swept Susan off her feet as soon as she entered. Lucy disappeared, muttering something about being the only one without a sweetheart, and Edmund and Sam dashed up the stairs to their rooms. They were both grimy and dusty from the long trip, but energized by the thought of being home at last.

"Thank Aslan. That stupid king. Finally surrendered," Edmund panted when he reached the doorway. He grinned and added, "Now you're all mind."

Sam laughed and kissed his softly, quickly. "Of course I am, love." Then she dashed towards the bathroom, leaving faint brown footprints behind her, and shouted over her shoulder, "I call the first bath."

Edmund slapped a hand to his forehead and groaned. "All mine," he moaned. "Is it too late to return you?"

Later that evening, both of them lay on Edmund's bed, Edmund's hair tousled and still wet. Sam was wearing _the _nightgown, and though she wasn't too happy about it, Edmund was ecstatic.

"After all," he said, "it's me or that horrid king. I think even I win that comparison."

"True," Sam agreed. Then she sighed and shook her head in mock remorse. "Such slim pickings."

Edmund smacked her playfully on the arm. "That wasn't very nice."

She shrugged. "You were just the lesser of two evils," she teased. "Don't get cocky about it."

"Any way you put it, I'm better than that idiot king. As if I'd let you marry him…"

"What are you, my mother? I could have married him if I felt like it."

Edmund's mouth fell open. "S-Sam," he stammered. "I-I mean…Of course you _could _have…but I thought you'd rather…" he trailed off, flushing.

Sam winced and shook her head. "No, no, Edmund, that's not what I…Oh, I was joking! I don't want to marry him, I want to…Well, I don't want to marry him." She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her elbows on Edmund's chest. "Don't look so sad. I promise I was only joking!" She leaned forward and kissed him softly. He reached up and pushed his fingers through her hair, hanging down and tousled instead of pulled back like usual.

When Sam pulled back, she let out a contented sigh. She herself barely heard it, but Edmund's ears practically pricked up like a dog's. "What's that? Is our Queen happy with 'the lesser of two evils?'"

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," she told him. Then she thought back to his earlier words. "What did you mean earlier, when you said you thought I'd rather? I'd rather what?"

Edmund flushed again. "I-…Well, I didn't really mean anything, I just…" Then he remembered, "Hey, you said it too! You said, 'I don't want to marry him, I want to…" and then you just stopped."

It was Sam's turn to blush. "Well, what I meant was…I…" She ducked her head and buried it in Edmund's shirt. He tangled his fingers in her hair again and propped his head on his other elbow. It feels so…right, he thought, her in my arms…

"Sam?" he asked after a moment's thought. "Were you going to say you want to marry me?"

He barely heard it, but he definitely heard it: a tiny whisper, quiet like cat's feet, "Yes."

"Sam?" he asked again.

"Hm?"

"Will you marry me?"

Sam jerked her head up, eyes wide with shock, but even as she searched his face for some sort of explanation she was grinning.

"Really?" she asked, again, not above a whisper.

"Really," he whispered back, moving his hand from her hair to her cheek. He stroked her cheekbone, let his fingertips touch lightly to her lips, and trailed his hand down her neck to trace the contours of her collarbone.

"Edmund?" she whispered. "It makes it really hard to think when you do that."

He smirking and pushed lightly on the strap of her nightgown. Without much resistance, it slid down her shoulder. "Then just say yes, silly girl, and let me help you stop thinking." He was enjoying this new, submissive Sam.

"Ok," she said.

"Ok, what?" he asked, removing his hand. She frowned in distaste.

"Ok, I'll marry you," she sighed. "Really. I'm thinking a bit more clearly now, and it seems like a good idea."

"Seems?" he teased.

"Of course, you never can know, what with the lesser of two evils. Perhaps I would've been better off with that king." For a brief moment, she turned serious, and murmured, "I love you, Edmund."

"I love you, too," he answered, his voice thick. Then he swiftly flipped them over, so she was pinned beneath him. "Now, about marrying that king," he continued. "I'm not too keen on that, so I think I'll have to convince you I'm worth your while and claim you for mine. I don't have a ring – yet – but I'll get one. In the meantime, I have other ways."

"Other ways?" Sam asked, her voice full of mock doubt. Edmund kissed her roughly and smirked a bit to himself as she gasped into his mouth and locked her fingers in his hair. Already she was melting.

He pulled away briefly and answered her. "Of course. And if they don't work, I just remembered something." Without getting off her, he reached into a drawer by his bed and produced a ring. "It seems I might've sent Lucy and Susan off to get this before the war. Just in case."

"Edmund," Sam gasped. "It's beautiful."

"I would get down on bent knee and all that, but as long as you're sure, I don't think I'll bother with that. I'm busy at the moment."

"I'm sure," she promised, and pulled his lips to hers again.

The End


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